Be My Baby

by ANDREA SMITH

  I was so grateful for my dad's intervention. I guess that was something else that fathers did. I hugged my father tightly to me. He was my rock as well.

  Trey was transferred to St. Matthews as scheduled the following Tuesday. Tristan, Clive and Susan were all waiting as the private medical helicopter arrived with Trey and me. He was settled into to a private room in the short-term rehab unit. It was just ten days ago that Karen Deeny's vehicle had careened into our lives wreaking turmoil. I was thankful for each day Trey was here because I knew he would get stronger. I felt less stressed now that he was back in Atlanta. I needed family. My father had been right. I would call Dad later to let him know everything went as planned once I was sure that Trey was stable in his new surroundings.

  The physical therapist came into the room later that evening at everyone else had gone home. I was leaning over Trey, carefully shaving his face. I had been vigilant about that when we were in Nashville. His bruises had started to fade; his stitches were dissolving as his lacerations healed. I was talking to Trey as I shaved. I always did that to keep him up to date on what was going on. I hadn't heard anyone come into the room.

  I heard a male voice clear his throat somewhere behind me. It startled me; I jumped and nicked Trey's face.

  "Holy shit! Now I've slashed my husband's face thank you very much," I muttered, grabbing a tissue from the box and pressing it up against the tiny little knick.

  "I hardly think you could call that a slash, Mrs. Sinclair; I apologize for startling you like that."

  I looked at the man standing at the foot of Trey's bed. He was in light blue scrubs and had Trey's chart in his hands. He was extremely handsome; tall and muscular, with thick wavy brown hair and sparkling brown eyes. He didn't look like he was more than thirty years old. His eyes couldn't hide the amusement he got from my over-reaction on the tiny knick.

  "I'm Dr. Phillip Grayson, Mrs. Sinclair. I will be writing the physical therapy treatment plan for your husband."

  I wiped the shaving cream off of Trey's face with a towel; and pressed a small piece of tissue to the knick. I stood up and went over to where Dr. Grayson was standing. He smiled holding his hand out to shake mine. I took his hand noticing that it was warm and strong; like Trey's.

  "Do you have a few minutes to answer some preliminary questions that will aid in my developing his P-T plan?"

  "Of course," I replied, walking over to the window and adjusting the blinds to allow more light into the room.

  Dr. Grayson asked me questions about Trey's physical fitness and workout habits prior to the accident. He examined him briefly, commenting on his good muscle tone.

  "Isn't it kind of early to start physical therapy when he's still in a coma, Dr. Grayson?"

  "You'd be surprised at how quickly the muscles can atrophy, Mrs. Sinclair, especially with someone that works out as stringently as it appears your husband has been doing. He won't be a happy camper if we let that happen to him," he gave me a smile and a wink. I felt my face flush.

  I appreciated the fact that this doctor out of all of the ones I had talked to over the past week was the first to allude to the fact that Trey was going to wake up. This doctor didn't want Trey to be pissed when he did. I liked that.

  Dr. Grayson gave me his card if I had any questions. He told me Trey's therapy would start the following day. There would be three 15-minute sessions to introduce and reinforce stimuli for his breathing and physical movement abilities. He said it was important to prevent pneumonia or other infections while Trey remained in a temporary vegetative state.

  Dr. Grayson answered some of my questions and put me totally at ease that nothing they used to stimulate Trey could adversely affect his coma; on the contrary he said that patient's response to the various stimuli serves to bring them out of the vegetative state. I felt optimistic.

  He was just finishing up with our discussion when Gina breezed through the door. Dr. Grayson shook my hand again and departed. I shoved his card into my pocket.

  "Whoa, who was that?" she said coming over to me and giving me a hug.

  "That was Dr. Grayson; he is the head of Physical Therapy for vegetative patients here, apparently."

  "Clearly not hard on the eyes either," Gina replied.

  "Shhh -" I hissed at her, nodding my head towards Trey.

  I motioned for her to follow me out into the hallway so that we could talk.

  "Gina - you have to watch what you say when you're around Trey," I warned her.

  "Ty, I was only making light of it. I didn't mean anything by it."

  "I know, Gina; but suppose Trey heard that? You know how he is about stuff like that. All that is going to do is piss him off and possibly hinder his recovery."

  "Gee, girlfriend - I didn't think about that. I'll watch what I say, I promise."

  "Okay, then," I said, hugging her.

  Gina spent the next hour with me catching me up on all the things that Preston had been up while I had been on vacation and then in Nashville. She said Susan had been a godsend through all of this.

  "Ty, do you want to stay at the apartment with us? It's closer to the hospital?"

  "Actually Gina, I want to get back home with Preston and Jean. I have to put some normalcy back into Preston's life. You know she wouldn't kiss Trey when Dad brought her to Nashville over the weekend."

  "She's just a toddler. She doesn't understand."

  "I know that; but I need to talk to her and reinforce that her daddy will be okay. I don't want her to forget how he was before all of this happened."

  "It's just been a little over two weeks since she saw Trey. I don't think she will forget him that quickly."

  Gina and I picked up Preston; she drove me out to our house; Susan was staying with Trey tonight; Clive was staying the following night. Tristan had insisted that the four of us all take turns. I knew that he was worried about me. I knew that they all were worried.

  I told Gina I would see her the following day when I drove into Atlanta to see Trey. She told me to drop Preston off and she would keep her.

  I got Preston settled into her own bed for the night. Jean stopped me in the hallway for an update. I had talked to her on the phone almost every day since this had all happened. She was like a 'mom' to me.

  When I went into our suite I saw that Jean had put everything back in order. All of the ripped up clothing had been removed. There were stacks of new jeans, sweaters and tops folded on my bed. I wasn't sure if Jean or Gina was responsible; I was just grateful that someone had done this act of kindness for me. I didn't sleep well at all. I didn't like being in our bed without Trey. I cried softly into my pillow.

  It was Christmas Eve. I almost wished it would snow though that is fairly uncommon for Atlanta. I was standing in Trey's hospital room looking out of the window at the cold, chilly rain that was pelting against the glass. It wasn't nearly cold enough for snow. It was just plain dreary. It didn't seem like Christmas.

  Trey's parents had left the day before for California to visit Nigel and Tess until after the New Year; Preston was over at Tristan and Gina's anxiously awaiting Santa Claus. I was here with Trey who had still not come out of his damn coma. I was getting pissed. Why the hell wasn't he fighting this? Enough was enough I thought to myself.

  I had gone off on a couple of the physical therapists earlier in the day. I had overheard one of them whisper to the other that Trey needed to be moved to a nursing home due to his 'prolonged' vegetative state in order to free up this bed for a patient that had more chance of recovering.

  I had ordered both of them none too quietly to get the fuck out of Trey's room; I told them they didn't know 'shit from shinola' and then threatened to report them to Dr. Grayson. They had skittered out of there looking at me as if I was some crazed bitch as I chased after them.

  Later I had told Gina I was spending the night at the hospital. Trey was not going to be alone on Christmas. She and I had even argued. She said my priority should be Preston on Christmas. I had told her to
mind her own fucking business; I would be the one to set my own priorities. Tristan had finally told us both to shut up because the babies were getting upset.

  I had bought a small little artificial Christmas tree to set on the table next to Trey's bed. Susan had brought some of the ornaments from Bristol for our tree at home but I hadn't put one up this year. We were never there. Preston was at Gina's most of the time; I was here with Trey.

  I grabbed the remote for the television in his room and put some Christmas music on while I decorated the sad little Christmas tree next to his bed.

  I looked over at him while I decorated; his bruising was gone; his lacerations had healed nicely. He was thinner but he still looked gorgeous. His vitals were always good. What was the problem? It had been almost a month now.

  His firm had sent over a lovely Christmas arrangement and fruit basket. I moved them now to the window ledge so that I could center the tree properly. I dug into the box of decorations that Susan had brought. I pulled out the little Christmas angel that Trey had made in the second grade; the one that had been made out of a tampon. I recalled when I had first seen it our Christmas together in Bristol.

  I sat down on his bed and put the angel on his tree; tears rolled down my face as I looked at it now.

  I stretched out on my side next to Trey facing him.

  "Wake up, Trey. Please wake up for me. I can't do this much longer, baby. I just can't . . ." My sobs came rushing out; I didn't care. It wasn't as if he could hear me anyway . . .

  _______________________________________________

  I can hear Tylar crying but I can't see her, damn it! I can feel her next to me; I can always tell when she's near me even if she doesn't say anything. I can sense her nearness; her moods. I sense her sadness right now and it crushes me. Does she think that I don't want to see her? I love her with my whole being whatever that happens to be these days.

  Marla is back now with Marley; we have had several lengthy chats about things. She lets me hold Marley sometimes but most of the time she does her fading routine when I ask for the baby. She has my number I think. She knows I want to take the baby with me. We've talked about the fact that I need to cross back over. Marla says it is not my time yet. I ask her over and over again to explain why the hell it was Marley's time. She says she is not the one with the answers; the one with the answers has told her I need to cross back. Marley is staying put. Apparently my mother-in-law doesn't know how stubborn I can be.

  Marla is speaking to me now in her soft, melodic voice; she is telling me to trust her; she is telling me it is time to go. Wait! I want to kiss Marley one more time. They fade. I chase after the fading vision. . . I can't reach them. Damn!

  I sat up quickly in Trey's bed. Had I just imagined that he had moved in his sleep? I had stopped my crying when I felt him move next to me. I brushed the wetness from my cheeks with the back of my hand. My nose was running. I pulled a tissue out and blew my nose. I watched Trey. There it was again! His arm had moved; his face had twitched. His brow was furrowed as if he was frowning or pissed about something. Who had made him mad?

  I continued to watch him. Nothing more happened. I had probably imagined it. I finished decorating the tree and then plugged it in so the miniature twinkle lights illuminated. The crying jag had helped a little bit. My tension was relieved. I was done with my 'pity party' for the time being.

  I found the remote and switched channels. One of the satellite channels was running a 1980's movie marathon all day Christmas Eve. I located it as the next movie was getting ready to start. It was 'Dirty Dancing'. I loved that movie! Who wouldn't love anything with Patrick Swayze in it?

  I curled up next to Trey, laying my head on his chest as the opening credits started with the familiar soundtrack; the muted black and white, slow motion footage of the various dancers came across the screen with the classic '60's tune by the Ronettes. . . Oh My God! I remembered when Trey had told me about that song the night I almost died! I listened as the lyrics spilled out plain as day. 'The night we met I knew I needed you so; and if I had the chance I'd never let you go . . '

  God - how strange was this that the song Trey had told me about a few weeks back was now playing in full Dolby surround sound in his hospital room? It was --.

  Holy shit! I felt fingers in my hair. I was afraid to look; I was afraid it was my mind playing tricks on me in some fashion. I had acted out several times today; perhaps those PT's had turned me in to the hospital security officials after I had ran after them and threatened them like that. I felt it again.

  I rose up turning to face Trey. Oh My God - his beautiful blue eyes were watching me; his newly healed wrist was raised so that his fingers could comb through my hair.

  "Trey? Do you know me?"

  "What the fuck, Tylar, of course I know you."

  CHAPTER 28

  It was New Year's Eve night and I was helping Trey get settled on the sofa in our family room. He had been released from the hospital this afternoon with a stern warning from his doctors that he was not to do anything but 'veg' out for the next week until he saw them again. I handed him the remote so that he could surf all of the sports channels while I made snacks and appetizers for our own private New Year's Eve party.

  Everyone had been here and gone. Tristan and Gina had a New Year's Eve extravaganza going on at the club with a special dinner, dancing and New Year's champagne toast. The band playing was a fairly popular 80's girl band that had reconvened for the third time. We were keeping Reese; Jean had stayed over to help since I was focusing on Trey's needs.

  I had been very strict with him all afternoon to ensure that he did exactly as his discharge papers ordered. He had started calling me 'Nurse Nazi.'

  Once he was settled comfortably on the couch watching Sports Center I started a fire in the fireplace and started back to the kitchen to finish our snacks.

  "Hey babe, is Preston still up?"

  "It's only eight o'clock, Trey. I'm sure that she is, why?"

  "I don't know. She seems kind of distant with me. I thought maybe you could bring her down here to play?"

  "Sure," I said cheerfully, "I'll go get her."

  The truth was I was not sure at all that Preston would be satisfied playing in the family room. She had been extremely reluctant to allow Trey to hold her or be near him. I wasn't sure if it was just a familiarity thing that needed to be re-established or what. I hoped she wouldn't act fussy about it.

  Jean had just gotten Preston into her pajamas when I got upstairs to the nursery. I picked Reese up from Preston's crib. He was going to sleep there for the night. We had just bought Preston a twin bed for her room and used one of those portable rails on the side that wasn't against the wall. She was all excited about sleeping in her 'big girl' bed. I figured if Reese was downstairs with us, Preston might not object so much about being around Trey.

  It would break his heart if she acted out.

  "Preston," I said, "Let's get your play quilt and some toys for you and Reese and go downstairs where Daddy is and play, okay?"

  "Kay Mommie," she said happily, scrambling over to her toy box to grab an armful of her toys.

  I looked at Jean who held up her fingers crossed. She had picked up on it as well.

  We went back down. Reese was sucking happily on his pacifier. I put him into Preston's baby swing that we had set up upon his arrival. He was happy to swing and observe everything that she did. They almost seemed like brother and sister.

  Preston and I spread her play quilt out on the floor near the couch. She sat down with some of her puzzles.

  "Hey, Baby Girl," Trey said to her, "Can you show Daddy how you can put that puzzle together?"

  She looked at Trey for a moment and then broke out into a wide, dimpled grin. "Kay Daddy," she said.

  My heart fluttered with happiness. I went back to the kitchen to finish up and listened to them both chatting to each other. It was if nothing had changed. I was grateful.

  I put our snacks out and brought
a beer in for Trey.

  "This is your limit for tonight," I said handing it to him.

  "Yes, 'Nurse Nazi," he quipped, smiling at me.

  It was so good to have my Trey home. He shared some of the weird dreams he had experienced while comatose with me over the past week. They were quite entertaining. He claimed that my mother was a 'stubborn wench'. He supposedly had unlocked many of the secrets of the universe while eavesdropping on several renowned scientists, physiologists, and philosophers. They all seemed to be of varying generations.

  He had rambled on something to the effect that Socrates was a misunderstood war vet turned hippy that willingly allowed himself to be martyred for the good of Athens, Greece; then there was his inside scoop that Galileo had gotten a bum rap from some Catholic pope; that in fact he had not been guilty of heresy. I had listened intently to Trey, nodding my head up and down in agreement all the while wondering what type of meds the hospital had been giving him.

  My thoughts were interrupted when I heard Reese grunting from his swing. Preston's head snapped up from the puzzle she and Trey were putting together.

  "Doodee, Mommie, she said pointing to Reese.

  "I know, sweetie," I said, "Will you run up and get a clean diaper and wipes from Jean?"

  "Kay Mommie," she said getting up and running for the stairs.

  Trey chuckled from the sofa.

  "She is getting to be such a big girl," he said shaking his head. "I wish you could have seen Marley , baby. She is so beautiful."

  That was one of the more disturbing stories Trey had revealed after coming out of his coma. He claimed that my mother was taking care of Marley and wouldn't part with her. He said he had hung around in hopes of being able to bring Marley back with him. Head traumas were weird, that was for sure.

  "How would you feel about another baby, Trey?"

  "Baby, you know how I feel. I'm ready just as soon as my doctor clears me for take-off."